


Safe Haven

by mmorgan317



Series: Season 1 Rewrites [1]
Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: Amir whump, Mentions of Racial Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-22 12:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmorgan317/pseuds/mmorgan317
Summary: Amir hadn't thought it was going to be easy to integrate into the base in Turkey, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be quite so challenging either. Amir whump. Mentions of racial (Muslim) slurs.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> So, I absolutely love The Brave. I love how Dean and his team wrote it and created it. I love how it’s acted and the points it’s making. 
> 
> BUT! I also like whump; more specifically, I like Amir whump. So I decided to attempt to rewrite every episode of season 1 with some Amir whump in it. I will try to stay as canon as possible with it, but there will be some AU-ness to it since I will be changing things, sometimes marginally, sometimes more noticeably. 
> 
> So.. for this one, I noticed that in the hospital, when the team is trying to figure out what to do, Amir is holding his injured arm close to his body almost like it’s hurting. As a whumper, I took that hint and ran with it like I was Usain Bolt in the Summer Olympics, lol. 
> 
> I would like to send special thanks to Yuma, Arlothia, and AllieMac for taking the time to look over this thing. It wouldn't make half as much sense if they hadn't. Trust me. 
> 
> Hope you like it.

As Top pulled onto the road, completely ignoring the car on fire behind them, Amir settled into the backseat. His actions were smooth and careful as he scooted against the cushion, pivoting so that his injured arm wouldn’t knock against the door if they hit a bump. It was bound to happen; the roads in Damascus weren’t ideal. 

McG had done well when he made the cut. It had been deep enough to draw the amount of blood which Amir had needed to use to simulate a head wound, but not so deep that it would be a problem later. Unfortunately, Amir’s cover hadn’t ended there. He and Jaz had been needed to case out the hospital so the team wasn’t flying blind when they rescued Doctor Wells. 

Beyond the initial contact with Akmuti, the role itself hadn’t been strenuous. But as he and Jaz were the team’s best bet for sneaking up on Doctor Well’s guards, it was their job to take them out. Amir had felt the wound open more then. Old blood mixed with fresh, saturating the sleeve anew. Now it throbbed and burned – a fact which Amir hoped he’d hidden from the team. 

“Copy that,” Top said, no doubt responding to Deputy Director Campbell. “Preach, McG, meet up at the LZ after you drop Wells off.” 

_“Copy,”_ Preach affirmed, his deep voice a calming presence in Amir’s mind.

Amir sighed, the action controlled and slow, and allowed himself to relax ever so slightly. For the moment, all was well and he was safe. He could afford to zone out. He was with the team and he knew they would cover him if the need arose. That would change soon, though, so Amir took the break while he could. 

Not everyone saw him as a friendly. Amir didn’t blame them; he knew what many on base had been through. Since those within his own team had the same problem, he could hardly expect perfect strangers to do so. Amir sighed once more, gazing out the window with unseeing eyes. While he could understand it, it did bother him at times. Not just Jaz’s behavior towards him, but the other servicemen’s as well. Hers he didn’t mind nearly as much since he knew that it wasn’t personal. For the rest of them, however, it was very personal, as their bias against him was simply because of what he looked like – a Muslim. It didn’t matter that not all Muslims were the same; it didn’t matter that very few Muslims agreed with ISIS. Because he looked like the enemy, he was the enemy, and he was therefore unwelcome among them. 

Since the military bred obedience and restraint into their men like a dog trainer taught a puppy to sit and stay, things hadn’t progressed beyond words, taunts, and insults. Amir doubted things would escalate higher. Still, it was wearing on him. 

Pain sparked in his arm. Amir came back to the present, pushing his minor troubles to the back burner once more. Having unconsciously turned so that he was better able to look out the window on his side, his wound had bumped against the inside of the passenger door when they had driven over a pothole. It hadn’t hit hard, of course, but the pressure it had caused was enough to hurt. Amir stifled any sound of discomfort, clamping his jaw down on the hiss that almost came out, and held onto his right wrist tighter while he forced himself to remain relaxed. He wasn’t sure what Top’s opinion of him was yet, but he wasn’t about to give Jaz a reason to dislike him more; weakness was unforgivable in her eyes.

Amir’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror to check if Top had noticed anything. When blue eyes met his brown, Amir knew that he had. Amir inwardly shrugged, going back to staring out the window. It couldn’t be helped. Adam Dalton was an uncomfortably keen observer; even if there hadn’t been the gigantic red flag of blood on Amir’s sleeve pointing out that something was wrong, Top would have figured it out on his own. Fortunately, the man didn’t appear to be the kind to worry about things that couldn’t be fixed, and right now the only thing that could help Amir, in Top’s mind, was getting back to base. 

Blinking, Amir sighed inaudibly once more. _If only that were true._

 

**oOo**

  
****

Once back on base, Amir kept close to the team’s barracks. It was the best way to ensure that he didn’t run into any trouble, especially since he wasn’t in the mood to deal with small-minded people today. 

“Just the man I wanted to see,” Captain Mark Doyle greeted as he met up with Amir outside the dugout. 

_Perfect,_ Amir thought as he stilled an eye roll and tucked his hands into his pants. The tape which McG had just applied to hold a large bandage in place stuck against the pocket lining, catching and peeling away the further in he shoved his hand. Since the man in front of him was his biggest aggressor, Amir refused to show any sign that something was wrong. He wasn’t about to give the man any leverage. 

“Captain,” he greeted evenly, his shoulders stiffening as his stress levels increased. He doubted the redhead would do much of anything with most of Amir’s team just inside, but it never hurt to be prepared. Not only did this man outrank him, he was also a good half foot taller than him and built along the lines of Preach. Amir could be wily in a fight, even when injured, but it did little good if he was caught unawares. 

“Command has asked me to have you translate a letter we found while out today,” Doyle answered, sounding slightly angry about the order but not showing it. It wasn’t hard for Amir to figure out that the anger was faked, just like the command from D.C. Trouble was, even though he knew it, and he knew that Doyle knew he knew it, Amir couldn’t say no because it was a plausible enough reason for anyone who would question it. Doyle tucked his hands into his pockets as well, mimicking Amir and barely stifling the smile which Amir could see he so desperately wanted to show. “Unfortunately I forgot to bring it with me, so if you could follow me, I’ll take you to it.” 

“Everything alright?” Preach’s voice interjected from behind Amir’s right shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Doyle answered for Amir. “Just needing your Hodgie’s help with something. It’s time sensitive and I’d like to follow-up on the information before it’s too late.” 

Amir stiffened at the use of the slur, but he didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t the first or thirty-first time one of the men on the base had said something like it to him, and chances were good that this wasn’t going to be the last either. Although it was getting harder to allow names like these to roll off him, it wasn’t impossible. It simply took longer. 

“Of course,” Amir granted, refusing to allow Preach to say anything. Of all of those on the team, Top and Preach were the ones most likely to step in and defend him in one form or another. They would take offense to the slurs on his behalf, and since they were in a better position to correct the behavior, they would feel it to be their duty to do so. Since it wasn’t going to stop anything, and might only make things worse, Amir knew it was best to step in before anything started. “Lead the way.” 

“Don’t worry,” Doyle told Preach with a wink. “I’ll return him to you in the same condition I found him.” 

Somehow Amir doubted that, but he didn’t argue as he began to follow the Captain to Team 4’s barracks. He needed to be strong, to prove that he deserved his place with the team. Here was Amir’s way of doing just that and he was determined to succeed even if it killed him.

 

**oOo**

 

Preach watched Amir follow Doyle with unease settling in his stomach. He knew that things hadn’t been easy for the man since he’d come onto base, but Preach had stayed out of it. Sometimes a man needed to handle his own problems his own way. Watching the stiffness in Amir’s posture, Preach began to wonder if this was one of those times.   
 ****

“What’s up with you?” Adam said as he rejoined his team back at the barracks. Since his friend seemed to be more relaxed than Preach had expected, he assumed that the debriefing had gone well and that Deputy Director Campbell was happy with the outcome of their mission. Adam looked around the room, spotting all of his team but one. “Where’s Amir?” 

“Doyle came asking for his help.” 

Adam froze for a moment and then relaxed again, but Preach knew that the man was feeling the same sense of wrong that he was. “Doesn’t Doyle have his own translator?” 

Preach nodded. Captain Mark Doyle had many translators back in D.C. to help him if he found something that was out of his extensive expertise. This was a task which Team 4’s CO didn’t need Amir’s help. No, something was wrong. 

One look at Adam told him that the blonde was reaching the same conclusion. The nonchalance which Top had been trying to portray vanished. His brow furrowed, his arms crossing over his chest and his shoulders tightening. Knowing that Adam would ensure that nothing happened to their newest team member, Preach casually said, “They headed in the direction of 4’s barracks.” 

Adam raised an eyebrow at Preach. “Make sure McG doesn’t burn the place down trying to cook,” he said offhandedly before heading in the same direction Amir had. 

“Will do,” Preach said softly, a small smile coming onto his face.

A part of him wanted to follow; it would be entertaining to see Top put Doyle in his place. It wasn’t that Amir needed the help, per se, but the fact of the matter was that Adam Dalton was an extremely loyal man. His team was his family and no one messed with Adam’s family without his permission. Picking on the new guy wasn’t unheard of, but if Preach had to guess, Doyle was doing more than joking around with Amir and that wasn’t acceptable. Not in Adam’s eyes. Not in Preach’s. 

Turning around, Preach went to the kitchen. The best way to stop McG from potentially burning down the kitchen was to cook dinner without McG in the kitchen. Sighing, Preach pulled the cast-iron skillet off the shelf and placed it onto the stove. Let Adam handle Doyle. He would make as good a dinner as his mama taught him. 

 

**oOo**

 

Amir patiently followed Doyle, checking blind spots, expecting to be jumped at any moment along the way. Surprisingly, he made it to Team 4’s barracks without being accosted once. He hadn’t missed the way everyone avoided looking at him whenever he passed, nor had he missed the way they seemed to leave when he and the Captain lingered longer than a few seconds. Whatever it was that the Captain wanted with him, it seemed that a fair amount of the base knew about it and were trying to avoid being witnesses. It was smart, but it was also worrisome. 

The inside of Team 4’s home-base was very similar to that of Amir’s team, the furniture within used and worn. There were ten teams on the base and each one had their. Each building was the same, however, and it was left up to the members of each team to decide how to make it their own. From the looks of it, Team 4 hadn’t done much beyond break the furniture in and set up an area where they could work out. The place was neat, but it lacked the feeling of comfort, of home, that Dalton’s team’s did. 

Captain Doyle led Amir to the center of the dugout and then pivoted to face him, putting his hands in his pockets again. Slowly, the rest of his team gathered, backing their CO. 

“I didn’t bring you here for your…linguistic skills,” the Captain announced. Amir stopped himself from responding; his particular brand of sarcasm wasn’t welcome here and he knew it. Doyle watched him for a second, then smiled. “I didn’t think you’d be surprised by that. For all your faults, you’re not an idiot.” Again, Amir had to stop himself from answering. Since his “faults” included his beliefs, he didn’t take that comment as a compliment. “No, we wanted to talk to you.” 

“About what?” Amir asked, pretending that he didn’t already know. The way Doyle’s team fanned out made his heart rate increase, but he hid it behind calm indifference. There was no way he was going to show fear to these dogs; they’d be on him quicker than a hound on a rabbit. 

“You don’t belong here,” one of the team said, the sneer in his voice clearly reflected in his tanned face.

The others nodded their agreement, but it was Doyle who continued to explain. “We thought that you would get the point. I mean, we haven’t exactly been subtle about it. Yet, here you are.” 

“Well, you did escort me here, so I’d say part of that’s your fault,” Amir answered, inwardly cursing at himself for not keeping hold of his tongue. He didn’t need Doyle’s darkening face to tell him that he had made the man angry. 

Although he hated himself for it, Amir did jump when two sets of hands grabbed his arms and pinned them behind him, being none too gentle about it. He didn’t fight them because he knew there was no point to that, but he also didn’t make it easy on them. He kept his hands in his pockets, forcing the two men to yank them out before they were able to secure his arms behind his back. 

“You know, McG mentioned that you had a tendency to get snarky. I just thought you were smart enough to recognize your superiors when you saw them.” 

Amir flattened his gaze as his anger got the better of him. “When they show up, let me know.” 

The punch to his side wasn’t unexpected, but it hurt all the same. Amir’s muscles tensed as he stopped himself from letting out any sign of pain. He bared his teeth for a only a second, though, when team-member-number-one squeezed hard on the wound on his arm, but he soon relaxed and went back to glaring at their CO. Another hit was Doyle’s response, much harder than the first, followed by more rough hands on Amir’s arms as the two men at his sides kept him standing. 

“You know, Doyle, I always knew you were a bully. I just didn’t realize you were a racist on top of that,” Top’s voice interrupted before the situation got any more violent. Amir’s heart sank. He should have felt glad to see Dalton there, but he hadn’t wanted the man to get involved. Should this incident land someone in trouble, Amir much preferred it to be just him and not him _and_ Top. He was just glad the man hadn’t been in visual range to see that last hit land. Amir wasn’t sure what Top would do if that had happened.

Team-members-number-one-and-two let go of Amir so fast that he almost fell over from their lack of support. His left arm instantly dropped to his throbbing side, guarding it from further abuse. With Top here, Amir doubted Doyle would do anything more to him, but with angry men such as these, you could never be sure. While Top made his way to stand next to Amir – partially in front of him, really, as though to block anyone’s line of sight to him – the two stray team members rejoined their CO and stood at ease. 

“What did you call me?” Doyle asked, sounding angry. 

“You heard me,” Top said, his tone as neutral as Amir had ever heard him make it. From his posture – the set of his shoulders, the near perfect erect posture, the hands at his sides clenching and unclenching – Amir could tell that Dalton was angry. It was obvious that he hoped to get them both out of this without a fight; he seemed intent on acting friendly with the other team in spite of how he felt about them. _It’s not a bad plan,_ Amir conceded, giving an inward shrug. _Too bad Doyle doesn’t plan on letting that happen._

Amir wouldn’t say that Captain Doyle was looking for a fight, but he was definitely ready to jump into one at the drop of a hat. Anger radiated off of the CO, seeping from him and soaking into the men behind him. Each and every one of them looked like a bull dog ready to pounce at the word ‘Go’. 

“Please tell me y’all didn’t decide to have a party and not invite me,” McG complained as he joined the group, standing just behind Amir’s right shoulder. 

A sideways glance showed Amir that the medic was playing pretend as much as Top was. The smile on the taller man’s face didn’t reach the cold challenge in his eyes. Great. Now instead of getting Top into trouble, Amir was going to be the cause for McG getting into it as well. 

McG’s fake smile grew wider as he focused on the other team’s CO. “Doyle, man, you know better than to invite Top to a party. He doesn’t know how to have fun.” He paused as footfalls announced yet another person joining them. “Besides, you know I always bring the girls.” 

Surprise is never an easy emotion to hide. Even for a spy. As a result, Amir knew that everyone could read his shock when Jaz walked in and stood on Amir’s other side. The fact that they flanked him spoke to him on a level he hadn’t even known was there. Burying it for exploration later, he cautiously uncurled and stood straighter. Keeping his arm by his side simply because it still ached, Amir tucked his right hand back into his pocket. Red briefly caught his eye, letting him know that he would have to have McG re-bandage the wound when this was finished. 

“Boys,” Jaz greeted with a smirk on her face. 

The evening of the odds had the desired effect. Team 4’s stances relaxed as they realized what it would mean to engage with Amir now. In front of him, Top put his arms across his chest and set his feet so that he was more balanced. He definitely looked calmer than he had a minute ago, but Amir still wouldn’t call him relaxed. “We done here?” he asked, in a tone which suggested that they had better be and that the matter was resolved. 

Captain Doyle’s deep blue eyes flicked over to Amir, the hate in them promising retribution when he least expected it, then went back to Dalton. “Yeah, we’re done,” he agreed, now mimicking Top’s stance. Amir had to admit, it looked far more threatening on the taller redhead than it did on Dalton. 

“Good,” Top said. “Oh, and Doyle. If I see you anywhere near Amir without one of us,” he gestured to the other two members of his team, “with him, I will file a complaint against you. I don’t care about the heat it may bring on me. Are we clear?” 

Another hate-filled glance in Amir’s direction followed before the man answered with, “Roger that.” Turning his glare onto Dalton he added, “Now take your precious little Muslim  and get out.” 

The room regained what little tension it had lost. Amir saw all three of his teammates tense up at the parting comment. While both Jaz and McG looked towards Top for instructions on how to handle that, Amir lowered his eyes. He wasn’t about to encourage a fight over something so small. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble. 

When Top looked back at Amir, he knew that the blonde wanted to act. To defend. Not only was it his nature, it was his job. Amir gave a minute shake of his head, discouraging him as subtly as he could. Shoulders still tight and tense, Top pivoted, turning his back on the other team, and headed for the door. With Jaz and McG to cover his back, Amir did the same, the other two falling in line behind him as they followed Top. 

Once outside, Amir let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He wouldn’t have called it relief exactly, but it was fairly close. He didn’t expect Doyle to heed Top’s warning, but at least he was safe for the day. 

“Top,” he said, wanting to both apologize to and thank the man for his intervention, but he was quickly silenced. 

“Neh-cht,” Top said, mimicking the same way he’d silenced Jaz while they were in that hospital in Damascus. He didn’t sound angry as he said it, but the tension in his shoulders was still there so Amir left him to his silence. Whatever was going through the man’s mind, he needed to work it out before Amir could, or would, talk to him. 

 

**oOo**

  
****

Adam felt bad silencing Amir the way he had, but it was for the best at that moment. He was still fuming and he needed to let that burn itself out before he talked to anyone. 

It hadn’t taken much observation on his part to figure out what Amir’s situation was. He’d had trouble controlling himself as he’d stepped into the fray. His hope had been to diffuse the situation, but it had become clear rather quickly that that wasn’t going to happen. Doyle’s group was too riled up, and if Adam had to admit it, so was he. The idea that these men were being intolerant like they were, going so far as to physically assault Amir, was maddening. He knew that part of the reason for that was because it was happening to a member of his team. _His_ team. This wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t have been angry to discover it happening to someone else, but he wouldn’t have been as tempted to take Doyle down a peg or two if that were the case. 

The only thing that had stopped him was Amir. And not just the small shake of his head, either. Whether or not the ex-spy knew it, he was exuding exhaustion. No doubt they all were since they had been up for over twenty-four hours, but this had an aftertaste of pain to it that Adam couldn’t miss. Amir’s posture, while fairly straight, was hunched enough for Adam to guess that Doyle had hit the man. The arm which Amir held close to his side only helped to make it more obvious.

This was to say nothing of the blood he’d spotted on Amir’s bandaged arm. They had been grounded long enough for McG to have properly tended to Amir’s wound – the bandage itself made that plain as day – and that blood was fresh. No doubt Doyle’s goons hadn’t been gentle when they’d manhandled Amir. Thinking about it made the impulse to go back into that bunker and beat Doyle bloody surge within him again, Adam had a harder time pushing it down. Clenching and unclenching his fists helped a little, but it didn’t last. 

Behind him, Adam heard McG checking on Amir, trying to get a lock on his condition. Amir was being stubborn and refused to give him a direct answer, but the fact that it was necessary got under Adam’s skin. He expected things like this to happen while they were on a mission. Hell, sometimes it was part of the mission for members of his team to get a little roughed up! But back on base, Amir should have been safe. The fact that he wasn’t made Adam furious. 

“I’m fine, McG,” Amir said after the medic’s third attempt to get a straight answer from him. 

By now they had reached their quonset hut, where they found Preach making spaghetti. Preach looked up at their entrance, eyebrows raising in surprise at the sight of them. He asked no questions, though. Simply turned and went back to prepping the meal. There would be questions later, Adam knew, but he was grateful for his friend’s wisdom in knowing that now wasn’t the right time. 

“Fine or not, you’re not getting out of an exam,” McG answered, just as stubborn as Amir himself. “So just sit down and let me take a look, alright?” 

Looking more annoyed than Adam had ever seen, Amir did as he was instructed and took one of the seats at the table. He held out his arms as though to say, ‘Are you happy now?’ then lowered them and glared at McG. Figuring that the medic could handle things from there, Adam left to go change. That had been his goal when he’d come upon Preach looking worried. Since Preach didn’t tend to worry for no reason, Adam had then abandoned his plan and had investigated instead. 

“Dinner in 10,” Preach called out, reminding him not to be long. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam answered, waving a hand in his friend’s direction. 

He wouldn’t take long, but he wanted to wash this day off before he ate. Maybe that would help rinse away the guilt he felt gnawing at his gut. Adam snorted. _Yeah, and pigs will start flying any second now._

 

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

 

“Alright, that’ll do it for the arm,” McG announced as he placed a clean bandage on top of Amir’s forearm. “Now lift up your shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Amir asked in a flat tone as Jaz laughed in the background. Yeah, McG hadn’t expected that to fly, but he’d partially hoped it would. Did this man have to argue with everything he’s told?

“You heard me,” McG answered. “Lift up your shirt. I know you’re hurt, man. Let me see how bad.”

“No,” Amir said, his role as willing participant over.

“What, are you scared that Jaz is gonna see your manly chest?” McG challenged with a smile. “She’s a woman in the US Military. Trust me, she’s seen better things than your chest.”

When Amir stiffened, McG reflected that he probably could have thought of a better way to persuade his patient, but then, he wouldn’t be McG if he had. With the flat stare still in place, Amir repeated, “No.”

“Alright,” McG said, not missing the way his new teammate relaxed at the word. Without bothering to ask when he knew what the answer would be, McG reached out and pressed against Amir’s left side.

“Hey!” Amir objected, wincing when his startled movement brought on pain.

“Well nothing feels broken,” McG confirmed. He hadn’t really expected there to be, but still, one had to make sure. The best way to be positive was to confirm with an x-ray, but if he were to judge by the amount of pain the shorter man was exhibiting, McG would say that Amir had a deep bruise and nothing more. “But you’re going to be pretty sore for a few days.”

“Thank you,” Amir retorted, now looking angry. “Am I free to go now?”

“After you’ve had something to eat, you can,” Preach interjected, placing a big ol’ pan of spaghetti onto the table. When McG’s stomach rumbled at the sight, Preach gave him a raised eyebrow before he turned around to grab plates and place settings. With those set beside the pan, he began dishing the food out.

“Thank you, but I’m not that hungry,” was Amir’s all-too polite response.

“Too bad,” Top said as he joined them at the table looking fresh as a daisy and still none too happy. “You’re going to sit there and eat what Preach gives you, then we’re going to talk.”

“Uh-oh,” McG whispered, partially under his breath. “Somebody’s in trouble.” Both he and Jaz snickered, but he stopped when he looked up and met Top’s blank glare. “Sorry,” he added as an afterthought with a shrug. He wasn’t, but he may as well say it. Top was still on edge and was in no mood for jokes.

Moving carefully, Amir pivoted to do as he was told. Keeping a careful watch on his stubborn patient, McG did likewise. He wished he could be a fly on the wall during the “talk”, but he knew that Top would want to handle this alone. McG may not have known Amir long, but even he knew that the man was more likely to talk if it was just him and Top.

 _Too bad,_ McG thought with an inward shrug. _I’d like to know how much of a beatdown I need to give Doyle._

  


**oOo**

 

Amir did his best to make a dent in the considerable portion of pasta which Preach had piled onto his plate, but he simply wasn’t hungry. Knowing that he wouldn’t be left alone until he’d eaten something, Amir did what he could. From the looks he was receiving from both Preach and Top, it wasn’t enough, but he didn’t care.

While they ate, the others chatted, sharing stories in hopes of helping Amir get better acquainted with them and with their history together as a team. Good-natured teasing was also thrown in, of which Jaz was the main instigator, but they could each give as good as they got. For his part, Amir let them take the lead. It would be easier for him to learn how to better adapt to their dynamic if he listened so that was what he did.

When the meal was over, Amir was one of the first who started to clear away and clean up. He half expected Top to put an end to it, no doubt desirous of having that discussion with him, but instead the man continued to sit at the table and watch him. Amir did his best not to squirm under the observation, using the act of putting the food away and cleaning the dishes to distract him from his unease.

Once he was finished, Top stood up. “Let’s take a walk,” he said, the suggestion more a veiled command than anything else. Muffling a sigh, Amir tossed the dish towel onto the back of a chair to dry and followed his CO into the evening air.

Night had fully descended over Turkey, bringing such darkness that it was almost suffocating. Unlike many, Amir found comfort in the dark. He had been operating from it for the past three years; he was used to it. In many ways he operated there still. Beyond those working in the DIA and the members of his team, none knew what Amir did. He liked it that way; it made hiding the blood on his soul that much easier.

“You wanna explain to me what I walked in on earlier?” Top asked, barging into Amir’s thoughts like a sledgehammer. His tone was curious, almost concerned, but Amir could tell that he was tense. It wouldn’t take much to push him.

The small sliver of peace Amir had gained in the quiet shattered like glass at the reminder. He’d allowed himself to briefly forget his situation, to feel safe. That wasn’t a mistake he could afford to make here. Amir shrugged one-shouldered, knowing that Dalton expected an answer. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Top repeated sounding doubtful and frustrated in one. “Amir, do I need to remind you that Doyle was ready to kick the shit out of you not two hours ago?”

“No, you don’t,” Amir said, his words clipped as anger began to surface. His side hadn’t stopped throbbing since the hits had occurred. Sure the pain had quieted, but it was there, serving as a reminder of what could have been.

There was a pause as Dalton watched him. “How long has this been going on?”

Amir shrugged again, looking into the night sky. “It hasn’t.”

“Amir, a guy like Doyle doesn’t just decide to beat the crap out of a subordinate. He works up to it. So I’m gonna ask you again, how long has this been going on?”

“Today was the first day they’d used violence,” Amir answered in a reassuring tone. He inwardly winced when he realized just how bad it had sounded. To others, it may have been comforting to know that, but to a man like Dalton, that wasn’t going to be good enough.

There was another pause as Top crossed his arms over his chest. “How long?”

Amir switched his gaze to his CO, staring at the man until he saw what he needed in order to gauge how he should reply. Recognizing defeat, he went back to staring at the sky, answering, “It started about three weeks after I arrived.”

“Right, so when you were sent to train with him,” Top rightly surmised. While Amir stood still where he was, hands in his pockets, Dalton began to pace. The movement drew Amir’s gaze from the inky black above him to the man in front of him. Something about this situation was clearly bothering the blonde; Amir just couldn’t narrow down what. When he stopped, it was to face Amir, a challenge in his blue eyes. “Why didn’t you come to me about it? Why did I have to walk in on what looked like a schoolyard fight in order to find out?”

“Top, do you think that I haven’t been bullied before?” Amir dryly asked. He shrugged, wincing when it pulled on his injured side. “It’s the same wherever I go.”

Which was probably why he had stayed under with ISIS for so long. Amir wouldn’t have called the past three years safe to any degree as there wasn’t a day when one person or another hadn’t tried to kill him. At first, it was merely part of the initiation; his cover had been written to get him in with those at the top, but Amir had still had to prove himself. Even so, Amir had felt accepted. He had felt more able to be himself there than he ever had on base. It was an uncomfortable thought, and one that he didn’t like having.

“Has it ever gotten physical?”

Top’s question brought Amir back to the present. He placed his hands on his hips, wincing again when it awoke the pain in his side. Bringing his left arm down in a hurry, Amir held it close to his torso. “Does it matter?” he asked, refusing to answer. There had been a few incidents, but Dalton didn’t need to know about them since there was nothing he could do about the past.

“Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell _me_ ,” Dalton insisted. “I don’t care if you’re used to it, or whatever. I’m your CO; it’s my job to ensure the safety of my team. You not telling me about this makes my job harder.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t safe,” Amir tried to appease.

“That bruise on your side would beg to differ,” Top argued back, stubbornly refusing to give in.

That was fair, but Amir wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Top was making way too much out of this situation and he needed to figure out how to calm the man down. ”We can talk about this in the morning,” he said, wanting to end this conversation. He needed time to think, to figure out what he was going to say and how he could get Dalton off his back. The truth wasn’t likely to help so he needed to find something else that would.

He pivoted to leave, hoping that the action would help end things for the night, but was stopped when Top grabbed his arm. His grip was firm, strong, and it hurt. Since Dalton had been reacting more than thinking, he had seized Amir by his right arm. Amir hissed before he could stop himself and Top instantly let go.

“We’re not done,” Top said in a calmer, quieter voice. It was obvious he was still angry, but he was no longer broadcasting that fact to anyone decently able to read a person.

“Top.”

McG’s voice from behind Amir’s right shoulder made him jump. When Dalton looked at the taller man, Amir turned and walked back into the bunker. He would hear about it from Top tomorrow, he knew, but for now he couldn’t care less. Right now, he needed to rack out and process the day.

  


**oOo**

 

Adam ignored McG’s angry stare as he watched Amir make his way to the bunks. Spots of red decorated the bandage on his arm, sending guilt to nest in his stomach. He hadn’t meant to hurt the man, however slightly. But something about the way Amir was avoiding the subject made Adam think there was more to the situation than he knew and that was a thought that wasn’t settling well with him.

“What was that?” McG asked, bringing Adam’s attention back to him.

Adam crossed his arms over his chest, feeling more defensive by his friend’s tone than he would like to admit. “What was what?”

“Since when have you ever kept forcing an issue?”

“I push all the time,” Adam argued, waving aside the concern he heard in McG’s voice. Moving past the taller man, Adam went to the kitchen for some water. They both knew that it was to give Adam something to do, but McG didn’t comment on it.

“Not when we’re not in the field, you don’t,” McG argued back. “Not when it isn’t a matter of life or death.”

“That’s just it,” Adam countered, putting the water bottle down onto the table and squaring off with the team’s medic. “This _is_ a matter of life or death. If I can’t trust him to tell me when something’s going on, then how can I trust that he’s not hurt and hiding it?”

McG was quiet for a time as he thought over the implications, silently watching Adam. He looked in the direction of the bunks, pausing to blindly stare at the injured man within, then went back to staring at Adam. “Did you ever think that, just maybe, he doesn’t know if he can trust us yet?”

That actually hadn’t occurred to Adam. While the team hadn’t given Amir a reason not to trust them, they hadn’t exactly gone out of their way to do the opposite either. Jaz’s attitude alone was enough to make any new teammate reluctant and Amir wasn’t just any new teammate - he was an ex-spy. For the past three years he had learned to be a private man out of necessity; his life had depended on it. Breaking that habit was going to take time.

Unfortunately, with a team like Adam’s, time wasn’t on their side. They had to be able to knowingly throw themselves into life or death situations and trust that their teammates were going to back them up and get them out alive. If Amir couldn’t do that, there was going to be a problem. Yet, he had willingly thrown himself in with Akmuti when the time had called for it. Was it possible that he trusted them when it came to missions but not when it came to him personally?

 _This is maddening,_ Adam thought as he began to pace. This was why he wanted to talk with Amir. He needed to get things cleared up before it started to affect the team.

“You should sleep,” McG said when the silence had carried far longer than it should have. He paused a moment then added, “We all should.”

Adam knew he was right, but he just wasn’t ready yet. “You go, I’ll be there in a bit,” he idly said, his mind racing. The others had already gone, so it was just the two of them left.

Although it looked like he wanted to, McG didn’t argue with him. He shrugged, then went to do as he was told. “Try not to let it bother you,” he said just as he reached the doorway. “Amir’ll come around. He doesn’t know you that well yet.”

Once he was gone, Adam sat down in the closest chair with a sigh. He couldn’t help but wonder, if a trained spy wasn’t sure he could be trusted, what did that say about him?

  


**TBC**


	3. III

**III**

  


The next day Amir was assigned KP. Top and McG hadn’t let him cook, but they had been more than willing to let him clean up afterwards; since it had been Jaz’s turn to make breakfast today, Amir would have rather prepared the food as Jaz's kitchen skills could use some work. He moved stiffly as he grabbed plates to clean. It came as no surprise to him that he woke up sore. Even though the pain was fairly easy to ignore, it was a nuisance all the same. Amir knew that McG had noticed and was willing to bet that the medic was going to throw a fit if he did anything relatively strenuous. Which was why the rest of the team was currently working on their combat training while Amir was here, doing the dishes.

 _Well, almost everyone was training,_ he amended when he looked over his shoulder and spied Top walking in. It took no stretch of the imagination to figure out what the blonde wanted. The man was like a dog with a bone.

“We need to talk,” Top said, surprising no one with the statement.

“Top,” Amir said on a sigh. He finished what he was doing, placing the clean plate with the others, then turned to stare at his CO.

Dalton held up a hand, stopping Amir from saying more. Amir leaned against the counter, then carefully folded his arms over his chest as he waited for Top to say what he wanted. “I know that you had to learn certain skills while you were in your previous position.” That was putting it mildly to say the least. “The thing is, you’re part of a team now and I can’t have you being reckless. It’s bad for you, and it’s bad for the team.”

Amir stiffened in anger. “You think I’m being reckless?” he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral so as to not give himself away. Dropping his arms, Amir gripped the counter’s edge. He gritted his teeth when his side began to throb and tightened his hold on the counter; now wasn’t the time to express either displeasure or pain.

“I think that if Jaz, McG, and I hadn’t shown up, you wouldn’t have told any of us what was going on.” That was true, he wouldn’t have. Dalton watched him for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest, looking frustrated. “See, and that’s not acceptable. What would you have done when D.C. sent us out again? Would you have told us if you were hurt?”

“I think you would have figured it out before then,” Amir answered evenly. Which wasn’t to say that Dalton’s point wasn’t valid, Amir just wished he could have seen this one coming. Admittedly, it hadn’t occurred to him that that was a situation he could have put them all in. Amir wouldn’t have gone with them, of course, not if it meant putting the rest of the team at risk. But that didn’t negate the fact that that would have left them one man down in a situation where that could have also put them at risk.

Top’s face hardened, his eyes becoming ice, his posture going stiff. Yeah, that hadn’t been the correct thing to say, or the best way to say it. Amir really needed to learn to control his tongue when he was in situations like this.

“Sit down,” Dalton commanded, his tone as cold as his eyes. When Amir went to sit in one of the chairs at the table, Top added, “No, on the couch.” Amir gave him an incredulous look. What difference did it make where he sat? “Don’t give me that,” Top said when he spied Amir’s expression. “I can tell you’re sore and the couch will be more comfortable than the chair.”

Figuring it was best to humor the man, Amir got up and went to the old, leather, couch. He was careful as he sat down, moving slowly as he allowed the cushions absorb his weight. Top had followed behind him and now stood in front of him, arms still crossed, face still hard. Amir spread his arms so that one covered the back of the couch and the other covered the arm. It wasn’t comfortable, but he wasn’t about to show Dalton that. Throwing Top what he hoped was an even look, he waited for the man to finish his thought from earlier.

“Do you trust me?”

That threw Amir. Of all the things he had expected Top to ask, that hadn’t even been on the list. Sensing that there was more behind the question than was seen on the surface, Amir took time answering. Before being asked, he had assumed he had because otherwise he wouldn’t have joined Dalton’s team. But then why couldn’t he answer yes without thinking?

“Yes,” he answered after a minute or two with perfect certainty in his voice. In the end, he _did_ trust Dalton. He didn’t trust the others yet, not fully, but Top he did.

“Then why didn’t you tell me what was happening?” Dalton pursued again. “Because, unless you don’t trust me to have your six, I can’t think of a reason why you wouldn’t.”

“Then you weren’t listening when we had this conversation yesterday,” Amir calmly retorted as his frustration got a hold of his tongue.

“Oh I was listening. I just don’t believe you.” Top shifted, now placing his hands on his hips. “See, I find it hard to believe that none of this bothers you. I mean, you’re good at hiding your feelings and not taking things personally, but every man has his limits.”

It was plausible theory, but untrue. Although he couldn’t deny that he was close to reaching his limits, Amir wasn’t there yet. “And you think I’m reaching mine?” he asked and surmised in one.

“I think you shouldn’t have to,” Dalton answered almost immediately.

Amir paused for a minute, taking that in. The quickness of the response was enough to tell him that Top meant it and that surprised him. It was rare for the commanding officer of a team to care about a new member of his team so quickly. Most tended to take their time, waiting and watching to make sure it was worth the effort of doing so. But Adam Dalton was different. Amir suspected that, by the time Dalton had asked him to join, he had already made sure it was worth the time to let Amir in. As a result, the man was patient with Amir, answering questions when he had them, and quietly instructing him when he should have had them but didn’t.

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t an issue, and if it became one, I didn’t want anyone else getting into trouble for something that wasn’t their problem.”

“Amir, we’re a team. When something like this happens, it doesn’t just affect you, it affects all of us.” Top pointed a finger at him, “Next time Doyle, or anyone, bothers you, you tell me. Period. You got me?”

The possessiveness Amir heard in Dalton’s voice was pleasant as well as surprising. During the past few weeks, Amir had slowly begun to wonder if he truly belonged with this Spec Ops team. Not only did the people on the base not want him there, but it seemed as though Jaz wasn’t particularly pleased by the idea either. Now, talking with Dalton, Amir knew he did. This was his new team. They were his safe haven in the storm.

“Yeah,” Amir assured, his voice quiet as embarrassed pleasure strangled it. “I got it.”

  


**_Fin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that this fic (and chapter in particular) is short, but I felt that it was broken up well and that each chapter did what I wanted it to do. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> M


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